Stop All The World Now
by emerald-soco
Summary: COMPLETE! MISSING CHAPTER 9 ADDED! Brooke Davis' world has come crashing to the ground at the same time as Nathan Scott's marriage. Can the unlikely pair help each other pick up the pieces?
1. Brace Yourself

Hi, folks! So 'The Games That Play Us' is on a bit of a hiatus while I figure out exactly what I want to do with it, but in the meantime, I've been bitten by the Brooke/Nathan bug. I haven't really kept up with the show, but for the sake of this story, let's pretend that when Haley left, Brooke and Lucas were a couple and he was sneaking around on her with Peyton. I know that's probably not true, but hey, artistic license, right? As always, reviews my life, and the more I get, the faster I'll write, so let me know what you think!

**Brace Yourself**

_So you think you can hold the world up by a string_

Her bags were already packed.

Nathan stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the two suitcases – matching, because Haley liked things to fit each other – sitting innocuously beside the couch. Behind him, the door swung shut with a bang, and he didn't so much as blink.

"Is that you, Nate?" Haley's voice reached him from the bedroom. "You home?"

He'd _thought_ he was. After a long day of school and practice, he'd been looking forward to returning to the home he'd made with the woman he loved and enjoying some peace and quiet. Their apartment was a safe place for him, somewhere he could be free of teachers criticizing his grades and Coach drilling him into the ground.

So why did he suddenly feel like he didn't belong there at all?

"Earth to Nathan," Haley laughed, in front of him now, blocking his view of the suitcases and filling his vision with a pretty smile and shining eyes. "Hello?"

She tugged lightly on his shirt, bringing him back. "Hi," he said and grinned, but when she rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him, the suitcases reappeared and his smile flickered. "What's all this?"

"It's, uh –" she hesitated, and her smile dimmed just as his had, and later on he would want to hit himself for not having seen it coming. "It's just a few of my things. I have some news."

"News that involves your things?" Nathan let himself be led to the couch. Usually, sinking into the cushions at the end of the day was his favorite thing, but tonight he found himself unable to relax. "Let's hear it."

Haley paused, choosing her words carefully. She'd been practicing her speech all day, but that didn't make it any easier. "I've been offered the chance to tour. Michelle Branch liked my music and her manager called today to offer me and Chris a spot on the road with them. It would only be for a few months and it's a great opportunity and -"

"And you're going." He didn't let her finish but then again, he didn't have to. Her eyes were brighter than stars, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement. A blind person could have seen how much this meant to her. "Well, that's great, Haley. That's just great."

Sarcasm colored the words, making her bite her lip. "You don't sound too thrilled, Nathan."

"Are you kidding? I'm through the roof." He stood up and stepped away from her, his hands dropping hers and curling unconsciously into fists. "My wife, the woman I gave up my entire _life_ for, is going on tour to be a famous rock star with the one guy in the world I don't want her having anything to do with. Oh, happy day."

Clearly upset by his reaction, Haley stood as well, trying to restore some balance between them. "Don't be like that, Nathan. This is the chance of a lifetime for me. It's not about Chris. It's not even about you."

"Not even about me." A short, mirthless laugh escaped him. "That's rich. I'm your _husband_, Haley. Aren't I supposed to be involved, just a little bit, in decisions like this?"

"It's not your choice to make!" Both of them froze as the words flew out her mouth and landed solidly, heavily, between them. Haley winced at the impact and tried to backtrack. "I'm sorry, Nathan, but –"

"No." He kicked her suitcase and it landed on the floor with a thud, silencing anything else she might have said. "You're not sorry. You're not."

There was a long pause. Haley was at a loss, unable to come up with words that wouldn't hurt him, and Nathan couldn't find syllables with enough sting. Finally, he spoke. "You want to go, go. But if you do … we're over."

XXX

It was all over school the next day.

Of course, the details varied. She had signed a record deal and was leaving to begin a world tour. She'd had an illicit affair with that spiky-haired musician and was running away with him. Nathan had cried – actually _cried_ – as she left him with nothing but divorce papers.

People believed what they wanted to believe. The only thing anyone knew for sure was that Haley James-Scott, cute and bright and formerly all kinds of boring, had left both her husband and Tree Hill, possibly for good.

Brooke Davis heard the whispers and couldn't have cared less. Or so she told Bevin, who had been gossiping about it with the squad, as a way to shut the other girl up. If there _was_ any truth to the rumors, she didn't want Nathan having it rubbed in his face that everyone and their brother knew about his troubles.

Still, curiosity got the best of her, and because the main subject of the story was MIA, Brooke decided to go straight to the next best source. After all, Lucas was Haley's best friend, and as her boyfriend, he had a duty to confide in Brooke anything Haley had confided in him.

Knowing it would take a few minutes of wheedling to get the information out of him, Brooke arrived for English – the only class they shared – early. To her surprise, Peyton was already there, too, sitting backwards at her desk to face the blond boy, and the two were leaning close enough for their noses to almost touch.

"I haven't heard from her yet," Lucas said earnestly. Just outside the classroom, Brooke frowned and pressed closer to the entrance, wishing he wasn't such a mumbler. "And she hasn't returned any of the messages I've left."

"Weird." Brooke couldn't see her best friend's face, but she saw the blond curls shake as Peyton shook her head. "It's not like her to ever miss a call. What're you gonna say when you do get in touch with her?"

Lucas shrugged. Brooke loved his shoulders, their strength and span, how he was just the right height that she could tuck her body perfectly in the crook of them. "I'll just tell her the truth," he replied. "That I care about her a lot, but she's not the one for me."

The entire world seemed to grind to a halt at those words. The humming conversations of the students around Brooke stopped, the air went stale, her heartbeat slowed to an unnatural pace. She had assumed that Lucas and Peyton were, like everyone else, discussing Haley, but his words didn't make any sense.

Unless …

Brooke didn't even want to _think_ it, but it wasn't like they were leaving her much choice. Something was obviously up between her boyfriend and her best friend and she'd never been one to back down from a fight.

She cleared her throat to make her presence known and her heart broke at how quickly they jumped away from each other, how guilty they looked as they avoided her gaze. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she asked sweetly, wondering which of them would have the guts to come clean.

"Brooke …" Of course it would be Lucas. Her sweet, sensitive, too-good-to-be-true boyfriend Lucas. "No, you're not, we were just – just –"

"Just trying to think of a good way to dump me," she supplied. She'd never wanted to be wrong so badly in her life, but neither of them were trying to argue. "Hm. I guess you found it, huh?"

"Brooke, it's not like –" Peyton began, wanting to salvage what she could of the situation. She of all people knew what it was to like lose someone you loved, and she wouldn't wish the pain of it on anyone, especially not Brooke. The brunette was like a part of her, the kind of person she only wished she could be.

"It's not like you knew how much I cared about him," Brooke interrupted, and the smile she flashed was cold enough to send shivers down her friend's spine. "It's not like you didn't already have a chance with him that you blew."

"It's not Peyton's fault," Lucas tried, "It was me, too, I couldn't –"

"Couldn't help yourself," she cut in again, determined to not let either of them finish a sentence. She would finish it for all of them because, damn it, she was Brooke Davis and she did _not_ get her heart broken. "You know what? You two are unbelievable. You deserve each other."

She headed for the doorway, then stopped and turned around again. "One more thing. If you have any human decency at all, don't use this as more kindling for your 'tortured soul, bleeding heart, pity party' routines. Okay? When you wake up in the morning feeling guilty – and trust me, you will – just go with it."

With that, she strode out of the classroom and allowed herself to be swallowed up by the crowd. Neither Lucas nor Peyton tried to stop her, and that was the biggest betrayal of all.


	2. Perfect Time of Day

**Perfect Time of Day**

_The end is the beginning_

_Everyone between is so lost, so lost_

Brooke was beginning to notice a pattern in her life. It went something like; 1) Brooke thought everything was fine, 2) Something came along and hit her over the head with a sledgehammer, shattering her world into a thousand little pieces.

It had started out close to home. Her parents had begun to sell little things here and there – the three extra cars, the house in Miami, the loft in the Alps. All things they didn't need and hardly used but, still, it had been nice to know they were there.

Brooke had hardly had time to properly mourn those losses when the whole drama with Lucas and Peyton went down. But she'd been handling everything okay, all things considered. She'd whined to her parents about her sudden lack of an allowance and she'd bitched to the rest of the cheerleading squad about what a whore Peyton had turned out to be, and she'd still been standing, thank you very much.

But this was just too much. She was currently hiding in the girl's bathroom, crouching over the toilet in the farthest stall and waiting for the nausea to pass. It was her second consecutive week of having an upset stomach and she couldn't believe she was coming down with something just as the weather was starting to get nice again after the longest, rainiest spring on record.

"Somebody somewhere is getting a kick out of this," she grumbled out loud, finally able to pull herself to her feet without having the room spin.

Washing up, she checked the clock and decided it was pointless to return to Algebra for the last few minutes. She had a doctor's appointment soon, where he would hopefully provide her with something to kick this bug's ass out of her system, and then she planned to do some major shopping. In her mind, there was no disease a trip to the mall couldn't cure.

XXX

Nathan hated shopping. Actually, 'hate' wasn't a strong enough word to describe how he felt about stores and salespeople. But he hated sitting at home in his all-too-empty apartment just a little bit more, and he was in need of some new workout gear, so he'd decided to brave the crowd for the afternoon and hit the sports equipment store.

Unfortunately, his lack of knowledge in this area had led him to park at the completely wrong end of the sprawling, three-football-fields-long shopping center. He'd realized his mistake far too late and was now stuck squeezing his way carefully around women with way too many children and elderly people with walkers and slow, mincing steps.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered darkly to himself as he got stuck behind yet another brood of rugrats. It was like they multiplied or something, appearing out of thin air to block whatever escape route he was trying to forge.

He decided to give up when it took him twenty minutes to reach the food court, which was only the halfway point of his journey. Instead, he treated himself to a huge slice of pizza and a supersized Coke and was just sitting down at one of the wobbly tables when he spotted a familiar figure.

"Brooke Davis." He wasn't surprised to see her at the mall – he figured it was like her headquarters or something. But he was more than a little startled at her appearance: slumped shoulders, rumpled clothes, tired eyes that seemed to stare right past him. "What are you doing here?"

She scowled at the interruption, narrowing her eyes at him as he took the seat across from her without asking permission and took a huge bite of his pizza. "That's disgusting," she told him matter-of-factly, trying not to inhale. In retrospect, the food court hadn't been the best place for her to sit down. All the combined smells were making her sick. "Do you know how many calories are in that?"

"_I'm_ not worried about getting fat," he returned, patting the six-pack he spent two hours a day in the gym to keep. "Here, have a bite."

He waved the slice under her nose, making her gag. "Oh, God," Brooke whimpered, one hand on her stomach and the other flying to her mouth. "I'm gonna be sick."

She jumped up from the table and moved with surprising speed to disappear inside the restrooms. Nathan frowned at the violent reaction, then shrugged it off as a girl thing. Maybe she was on a diet.

By the time she came back to the table, looking less pale but more unsteady, he'd polished off his meal. "Still here?" she asked pointedly, reclaiming her chair.

"I was watching your bag." He pointed to the purse she'd left lying open on the table. "You're welcome."

Thoroughly annoyed, Brooke snatched it off the Formica surface and watched in dismay as its contents spilled out, scattering across the tile floor. Nathan bent to lend a hand and she saw, from her frozen position, his eyes widen in shock at the first thing he grabbed. "What's this?"

She avoided his gaze. It was just her luck that Nathan Scott, of all people, would happen upon her when she was having the worst day of her life, piled on top of the worst week, month, and year of her life. It was just her luck that she would make one wrong move and ruin everything.

"Brooke." He kept his voice low, as if whispering would make it less real. "What's going on?"

_Bite the bullet, Brookie,_ she told herself. There was no getting out of it now. Nathan wasn't an idiot and he held in his hands the proof that her life was over. "What's going on, Nathan, is that I'm pregnant."

"And the father?" Knowing the answer, he held his breath, hoping he would somehow be wrong.

"Your brother." She smiled sardonically. "Who is probably sucking face with my best friend right now. Guess the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree, huh?"

He'd known about the breakup, of course. Lucas had told him at practice that Brooke had ended things, but he'd neglected to mention the 'why' part. And Nathan had been so caught up in his own anger with Haley that he hadn't even paid attention to how weird it was that Brooke, who'd been head over heels in love for the first time since he'd known her, would be the one to call it quits.

"I'm … I'm really sorry, Brooke," he said honestly. "Are you sure, though? I mean, this test, it's not even opened."

"I saw a doctor this afternoon," Brooke answered. She still wouldn't meet his eyes, choosing instead to concentrate on chipping away at her manicure. "So I don't need a stick to tell me what a licensed professional already did."

"I'm really, really sorry," he said again. It was strange that he couldn't think of anything else to say. A baby wasn't the end of the world. Brooke was eighteen, rich, beautiful, and had an ex-boyfriend who would at least do the right thing by her and the kid. It could have been worse. "Have you told Luke?"

She looked up at that, her eyes hardening at the mere mention of the name. "No," she spat out, "And I'm not planning to."

"What does that mean, that you're not gonna keep it?" The thought angered him more than it had a right to. "'Cause you can't just do that, Brooke, you can't just not tell him and end it and have him not even know. He deserves to have a say."

"Oh, really? And how, exactly, did he earn that right?" Brooke had been itching for a fight since she'd learned the news and she was almost grateful that Nathan was ready to give her one. "By cheating on me with the one person in the world I trusted? By breaking my heart in ways I didn't know it could break? No way, Nathan. I'm not telling him a damn thing, no matter what I decide to do, and you can't either."

"He's my brother," Nathan argued, well aware that it was a weak argument. He and Brooke had known each other far longer then either of them had known Lucas.

"You can't say anything," she repeated, and then added, "Please."

It was the 'please' that did it. Brooke had never asked anyone for anything a day in her life, and she'd certainly never begged. He couldn't refuse something that was obviously so important to her. Plus, he could always keep an eye on the situation and step in if it became necessary.

"Okay," Nathan finally relented. "I won't tell him, but only because it's not my place. He should hear it from you."

"We'll see," was all Brooke would say on the matter. She got up to leave, collecting the rest of her belongings with as much dignity as she could muster. "By the way, Nate … I was sorry to hear about Haley. I hope things work out."

The sincerity in her eyes floored him, so that it wasn't until she was almost out of earshot that he managed to reply, "Yeah, I hope so, too." But he wasn't sure if he was returning the wish for her and Lucas, or just echoing her sentiments about Haley.


	3. Collide

A/N: I don't watch enough of the show to really know the details, but in my world, Nathan and Haley's apartment is on the beach. Just fyi. Also, if you're reading this, **please review** – whether you like it or hate it, whatever! I'd love hearing what you think!

**Collide**

_Out of the doubt that fills my mind,_

_I somehow find you and I collide_

"Leave."

Peyton froze in the threshold, hovering uncertainly in the space between Brooke's bedroom and the hallway. She had never had this view before and she suddenly realized how big the room was. On a normal day, Brooke would be bouncing from spot to spot, filling the whole place with her presence, but right now she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, a tiny dot in a very large expanse.

"I just thought we should talk." Peyton hadn't expected to be allowed to even finish that sentence, and she had no idea how to continue. She shrugged uncomfortably, her hands withdrawing into the sleeves of her sweatshirt. "I mean, if you wanted to, we could … we could talk about it."

"About how you stole the only guy I've ever cared about?" Brooke's voice didn't get louder, but the tone had changed. It was low and dangerous, more of a snarl than a statement. "About how you stabbed me in the back?"

"It wasn't like that, Brooke." Desperate, Peyton stepped forward, coming as close as she dared to her best friend. She hated the unfamiliar distance between them. "If you'd just listen to me for one minute –"

Brooke looked up, her gaze pinning Peyton in place before she could get any farther. "Okay."

"O - okay?"

"Okay." She lifted one shoulder, an indication to get the show on the road. "You have the floor. You've got exactly sixty seconds to explain to me why you thought it was okay to put your hands on the boy I told you I loved."

Instantly, Peyton forgot everything she'd planned on saying. In the past few weeks of sneaking around with Lucas, she'd stayed up late a lot of nights, listing reasons as to why it wasn't really cheating. She'd used every excuse under the sun to justify her actions in her own mind: He'd liked her first. He'd fought Nathan for her. He and Brooke didn't make any sense.

What she hadn't let herself think about was how much things had changed. How she'd rejected him. How he'd moved on and begun to really care about her friend. How Brooke had begun, for perhaps the first time in her whole life, to care about him in return. Somehow Peyton had thought that if she just didn't acknowledge it, it wouldn't be real.

But now here it was, all of Brooke's hurt and anger, staring her right in the face. What could she say in her own defense?

"Clock's ticking," Brooke reminded her, tapping a nonexistent watch on her wrist. "Cat got your tongue?"

"I just … I'm sorry, okay?" She raised helpless, pleading eyes to Brooke's steely hazel stare. "God, I'm so sorry, Brooke, really, truly, horribly sorry. For whatever it's worth, I'm just … so … sorry."

"Yeah, well, it's not worth much," Brooke scoffed. After a long moment, she sighed heavily. "If you could go back and do it all over again, change it around … would you?"

She couldn't lie. She'd already sworn to herself that she wouldn't lie anymore – not to Brooke, not to anyone. But she wasn't brave enough to say it out loud, either, so Peyton just shook her head slowly, silently.

"Leave," Brooke said again. This time it was very quiet, almost polite. And this time, Peyton listened.

XXX

"I ran into Brooke yesterday."

Nathan was careful to keep his tone casual, to make sure the basketball didn't stop moving from the ground to his hand to the ground again. The rhythm of his dribbling filled the air between the two brothers as Lucas processed the words.

"Yeah?" he finally replied, and darted like lightning to steal the ball from under Nathan's palm. He took a shot, the ball arcing through the air to the net as if it had been made to take just that path. "How's she doing?"

"She looked okay to me," he lied, jogging lightly to reclaim the ball before it passed out of bounds. "Hey, man, you never told me why she dumped your ass."

Lucas faltered ever so slightly in his advance. "What do you mean? I told you weeks ago."

"Nah." He faked left and went right, neatly sidestepping his brother to take his shot. "You just told me it ended. You didn't say why."

The ball swished through the net, tying their informal game. Lucas squinted, trying to decide what his next move should be. "She kind of … caught me with Peyton," he admitted, and cringed when his shot bounced off the rim.

Nathan caught the rebound and sank the ball, then tucked it under his arm and faced his brother. "What do you mean, caught you with Peyton? As in …"

"No, nothing like that," Lucas denied, before Nathan could even get the words out. "We've gotten close again lately and we were discussing our options and then Brooke overheard us and, well, she got mad. Rightfully, I guess. So she ended things."

"Man." Pretending shock, Nathan bounced the ball once, twice, on the pavement. "That sucks, dude. You tried talking to her yet?"

Again, Lucas knocked the ball away from him to regain the upper hand. "I don't really think she'd listen to anything I had to say," he tossed out as he dribbled around the court, evading Nathan's defensive moves. "Besides, it's probably for the best this way. There's a line of guys waiting to take my place with Brooke. She won't even remember my name by next week.

"And now Peyton and I can be together," he continued, swinging around Nathan to make the winning basket. The ball came back to him and he twirled it on his finger, flashing Nathan a triumphant grin. "That's game point, man. I win."

"Yeah, you win," Nathan echoed, watching the ball spin in Lucas' hands, wondering how he'd never noticed how much his brother resembled their father when he smiled.

XXX

Nathan arrived back at his apartment sweaty and exhausted, looking forward to going home for the first time since Haley had left. He couldn't wait to take a shower, crash on the couch, and let ESPN lull him into sleep.

To say that he was surprised to find Brooke Davis waiting on his doorstep was the understatement of the year. She was sitting with her elbows planted on her knees and her chin resting on her fists, her eyes glued firmly to the ground. "Fancy meeting you here, Davis," he greeted, trying not to let his shock show. "What can I do for you?"

She stood up, glad for the fact that he was a step below her, making them eye-level. She liked to be on even ground with the people around her. "I need a favor," she said flatly, not wasting any time in getting to the point. "I need a place to crash and word on the street is, you're lacking a roommate."

His eyes narrowed at the mention of his situation with Haley. "I think you're forgetting the magic word. And the fact that me and you? We're not that tight."

"Nathan." His name fell from her lips like a plea, stopping him in his attempt to brush past her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. Don't make me beg, okay?"

He didn't think he'd ever heard an apology on Brooke's lips. And he'd definitely never seen her looking as small as she did now, with an entire ocean at her back and a world of trouble in her eyes. "Okay," he said, and held the door open so that she could slip inside. "But there's gonna be some ground rules."

"I don't cook, clean, or do laundry," she informed him, but a smile played at the edges of her lips.

It earned a chuckle from him. "Me, neither, so I guess we'll only have to live with each other for a few weeks before we die of starvation."

"Or the stench in here." Brooke's nose wrinkled as she stepped further into the living room and inhaled. "Ugh. Open a window or something. And maybe start burning your workout clothes if you're not gonna wash them, 'cause this is gross."

Nathan rolled his eyes, but complied. It was a valid complaint; he couldn't remember the last time he'd done laundry and the dirty clothes were starting to pile up. "You're not going to be easy to live with, are you?"

She laughed out loud at that and chose not to answer, instead tossing him the keys to her car. "If you get my bags, I'll order us some Chinese. My treat. And Nathan?" He was already on the way out the door, his stomach growling at the thought of lo mein and crab rangoon. "Thanks for doing this. Really."

"Hey, I should be thanking you," he replied easily, not wanting to make either of them uncomfortable. "I've been living off Doritos for the past month."

He headed to the driveway, leaving Brooke alone to explore her new digs. She spun in a slow circle in the middle of the living room, absorbing everything about her new surroundings, marveling at how she already felt at home.


	4. Trouble In Here

**Trouble In Here**

'_Cause I couldn't make up a thing that you say_

They made it through the whole meal without incident. Brooke let him have the last of the lo mein, even though she'd been eyeing the container hungrily, and she didn't complain when he left the television blaring so he could hear the sportscasters' commentary.

"Here." She tossed him a fortune cookie, keeping one for herself. "Open it."

He cracked it and removed the slip of paper. "The one you love is closer than you think," he read, and scoffed, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder. "What's yours say?"

She frowned at his, still fluttering to the floor like a surrendering flag, then read her own, "Love is the only medicine for a broken heart."

Nathan snorted derisively. "I'm sensing a theme. You'd think the people who make these things up would at least _try_ to be creative."

"You'd think," she echoed, and tried to shrug off the strange feeling washing over her. "Well. That was delicious. You owe me big time, pal. I'm gonna go see what's on TV."

"Uh, no, no, no." Using his athletic prowess to his advantage, Nathan blocked her way at the door. "I call dibs on the TV. It's game night."

Brooke stared him down, her hands going straight to her hips. "You can't call _dibs_ on the TV. We're not five."

"Yeah, but I actually live here," he countered. "And I've got the rent bills to prove it. So I'm pretty sure I get all TV rights. And actually, all rights. To anything and everything."

"Well, that's just great," Brooke said, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "What am I supposed to do? Stare at the walls all night?"

"Don't you have something girly to do?" he asked logically. Haley had always used their nightly downtime to do silly, frivolous things like curling her hair 'just for fun' or taking bubble baths.

She was about to argue when a thought struck her. Brooke smiled widely. "Yeah, I guess I can find something."

It was an easy enough victory that he should've been suspicious, but the game was starting and he didn't want to miss any of the action. Which was how Nathan found himself dying of asphyxiation ten minutes later. "Seriously, Brooke, that stuff is toxic," he warned, inching as close as he could get to the open window and taking a deep breath of fresh air. "It's giving me a huge headache."

"Really?" Feigning surprise, Brooke bent close to the open bottle of nail polish remover and shrugged. "I guess I'm just used to it. Don't worry. This only takes like, thirty minutes."

"Great, I'll be dead in twenty," he muttered, trying to focus on the game. It was a lost cause, though, and a few minutes later he turned off the TV with a scowl. "Okay. You win. Put that stuff away and we can watch whatever you want."

Brooke's grin softened the blow of defeat, but only slightly. Capping the bottle, she sprang onto the cushion next to him and captured the remote. "I think you'll enjoy this show, Nate, I really do," she giggled, flipping through the channels quickly. "It's called _America's Next Top Model_."

He sat up straighter at that. Any show with the word 'model' in the title couldn't be that bad. "Why has this show not won an Emmy?" he remarked three episodes later, and received no response. Startled, he looked down to see Brooke curled up beside him and fast asleep. "Great. If the team could see me now."

With a rueful shake of his head, he lifted Brooke and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed he hadn't slept on since Haley had gone. Brooke sighed peacefully and curled into his pillow. Smiling, Nathan returned to the couch, stretched out, and switched back to sports until he fell asleep.

XXX

A week passed and they grew more used to each other.

Nathan figured out that Brooke was _not_ a morning person. He discovered that she was on a first name basis with most of the food delivery services in the area. And he learned that while she rarely brought a book home and never studied, she was actually in the top ten percent of their class.

For her part, Brooke took careful note of Nathan's routine, not wanting to disrupt his life any more than she already had. She threw his laundry in with hers when the smell became overwhelming. She let him enjoy an hour of sports before beginning to whine for her turn with the TV. She even bit her tongue about the fact that he never, ever entered his own bedroom.

Of course, that didn't mean there weren't problems. He thought she took way too long in the shower and she often sniffed that he was an insensitive pig. But for the most part, they got along and managed to ignore the bigger tensions that simmered just beneath the surface.

It was a doctor's appointment that ended up causing all the trouble. Brooke's car had been in the shop all week, so she asked Nathan for a ride to her two-month checkup for the baby.

They'd established such a level of normalcy that he'd almost forgotten she was pregnant - with his brother's child, no less. He was silent and short-tempered the whole drive there and on the way back, his control broke.

"Are you ever going to tell him?" he demanded. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as he focused on the road ahead of them.

Brooke stared out the window and pretended confusion. "Tell who what?"

"Lucas," Nathan ground out. "About the baby – _his_ baby."

"_My_ baby," she shot back, her defenses going up. "And no. I'm not."

Nathan resisted the urge to slam on the brakes and shake some sense into her. "Don't you think he's gonna notice when you start showing up to school dressed in the latest _maternity_ fashions?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead," she snapped, closing her eyes against the force of his anger, the reality check he seemed intent on delivering. "Maybe I'll move to Boston before I start to show. Maybe I won't have the baby. _I don't know_."

"You can't just decide all by yourself, Brooke," Nathan insisted, his voice growing steadily louder. "It's not fair to him. This involves both of you and you need to let him have a say! He should be able to help you choose."

"This isn't the same thing that happened to you and Haley!" Brooke exploded, all of her fears and frustrations erupting at once. Immediately, she could sense that she'd gone too far, cut too deep, and tried to make things right. "Look, Nathan, I know you're mad at her for making her decision without you. But this is an entirely different situation. I mean, you guys are married, you had already pledged to share your lives when she took off."

He didn't respond, keeping his stony gaze on what lay beyond the windshield. Brooke swallowed nervously and continued, "Lucas and I … we're just kids. And we obviously weren't meant to be together, not if he could leave me so easily for someone else. You did have the right to be involved in Haley's choice, and I'm really sorry she didn't give that to you. But Lucas lost any and all rights he had to me and my life when he chose Peyton."

There was a long silence. Brooke fidgeted in the passenger seat, preparing herself for whatever would come next. She wasn't sure if her words had gotten through to him or just fanned the fire.

Nathan waited until he'd gotten them home, pulled into the driveway and put the car in park. Then he turned to face Brooke, fixing her with a glare so deadly that she wondered why she didn't just evaporate on the spot. "You don't know anything about my relationship with Haley," he told her evenly. "And you obviously don't know anything about really loving someone, either, because if you did care as much about Lucas as you always claimed to, you'd give him a chance."

That said, he let himself out of the car, slamming the door behind him so hard that Brooke's seat shook. He didn't wait for her to follow before storming into the house and slamming that door shut, too, leaving her alone in the car. And for the first time since everything in her life had gone so horribly off track, Brooke bent her head and cried.


	5. Sunday Morning Song

Thanks so much to those of you who do leave reviews, it really does help the writing process along. I love hearing readers' feedback and what you think of everything going on in the story! Hope you enjoy!

**Sunday Morning Song**

_Wouldn't it be something if everything changed?_

On Sunday morning, Nathan awoke to the smell of bacon frying and nearly rolled right off the couch in shock. Who would be cooking at – he tossed a bleary glance at the clock – nine in the morning in his apartment? Both he and Brooke avoided the stove like the plague and, with Haley's continuing absence, it was actually beginning to gather dust.

"Brooke?" he called out, acknowledging her presence for the first time in days. They'd been avoiding each other all weekend, both wanting to sidestep the consequences of their blowout. "What are you doing?"

He found her standing sentry over a sizzling pan, spatula in hand and one brow arched at him. "Playing Parcheesi," she answered dryly, then rolled her eyes and indicated the table she'd set. "What does it look like I'm doing? Grab a chair, breakfast is almost ready."

"You don't cook," he argued faintly, but sat anyway, because just the scent of a real meal was making his mouth water. "Is this poisoned?"

She slid a few strips of bacon onto the plate in front of him, which was already home to two pancakes and a spoonful of scrambled eggs. "Hope not," she replied before taking the seat across from him and biting into her portion. "Mm. I may have missed my calling in life."

He had to agree. Maybe it was because his morning meals usually consisted of a few handfuls of Captain Crunch – dry, because he almost always forgot to buy milk once he'd run out – but this was the best breakfast he'd ever tasted. "This _is _good," he admitted. "So, uh, why are you doing this?"

"My car's not really in the shop," she told him.

Nathan straightened in his seat, not sure how that really connected to making him breakfast. "Okay. And?"

Brooke sighed and set her fork down. "It was repossessed last week. My parents are declaring bankruptcy. We're broke. That's why I needed a place to stay."

She was avoiding his eyes, but at least they were talking again. Nathan had been more stung by Brooke's powerful silent treatment than he cared to admit. "Okay," he said again, and shrugged. "That still doesn't answer the question. Why are you doing this?"

"I don't want to fight with you," she confessed, finally lifting her chin to meet his gaze. "I mean, I can't tell my parents about – anything that's happening, especially now. And with Peyton busy playing doctor with my ex-boyfriend, well, you're kind of the closest thing I've got to a friend. I don't want us to be mad at each other."

He knew it wasn't meant to be a guilt trip, but that didn't stop him from feeling awful. Brooke's life hadn't exactly been a bowl of cherries lately – apparently, it had been worse than she'd even let on – and him jumping down her throat about the toughest decision of her whole life hadn't helped matters. Not knowing what to say, Nathan settled for reaching across the table and taking her hand in his.

"I wasn't mad at you," he told her, which was the truth. He shrugged and glanced down, a little embarrassed. "I was mad at what you were saying. And I guess … I guess I was mad at Haley, too. I still _am_ mad at Haley. Sorry I took it out on you."

"Hey, what good is a roommate if you can't use 'em as a punching bag every once in a while?" she joked, but the smile fell from her face as quickly as it had appeared. "Nathan. You're not wearing your wedding ring."

"I know." It was hidden in the bathroom medicine cabinet, waiting for him to decide what his next move would be. His fingers looked a little strange without it, but it didn't feel as bad as he'd imagined it would. "You may have been a bitch about it, but … you were right."

"I was?" Brooke's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "I mean, I know I was. I always am. But … about what, exactly?"

"Haley," he said simply. "Her tour. She didn't give me a say in the matter, and she should have. It made me think, maybe we _weren't_ that much different from all the other high school couples, you know? Maybe we weren't ready to get married when we did."

"Gee, you think?" Brooke deadpanned, before she could stop herself, and Nathan surprised the both of them by laughing. "Sorry."

He quirked an eyebrow at her in a dead-on imitation of her signature look. "You know, you apologize an awful lot."

"Yeah, well, I screw up an awful lot." It was something she could suddenly laugh at, joke about. When had that happened? "But I always make up for it. So dig in before everything gets cold and all my hard work goes to waste."

"Sir, yes, sir," he laughed, and released her hand in favor of his fork. Then he busied himself shoveling food into his mouth, trying not to notice that it was only when his fingers weren't laced through hers that they actually felt empty.

XXX

Brooke had thought long and hard after fighting with Nathan, and she'd decided that come Monday morning, she would find Lucas and tell him everything. She would listen to his opinion and discuss their options. And then, one way or the other, it would be settled.

But for today, she needed to fortify herself. Usually, Brooke's idea of fortification came in the form of liquid courage, but that was obviously out of the question at this stage of the game. She'd decided instead to spend the day with Nathan, to make each minute count, and to laugh as much as she could.

"Hurry up, slowpoke," she called over her shoulder, adding a skip to her step. Nathan was following behind, his large, flat footprints swallowing the tiny digs she made in the sand. "We're gonna miss it!"

"We can't miss the sunset," he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth so the words could reach her. "The sky's right in front of us."

Her laughter floated back to him on the wind, the sound that had carried them through a day of crossword puzzles and old sitcoms. "Yeah, but I want the best view money can buy, so put your ass in gear, hot shot."

A few yards down the beach, Brooke found the 'perfect spot' and plunked herself down on the ground. Nathan reached her a moment later and stood towering above her. "This is the best view money can buy? There's not even a blanket to sit on. Man, Davis, you really _are_ poor now."

She grinned up at him. "Sit down and shut up."

Returning the smile, he settled down beside her and they watched in companionable silence as the sun lowered in the sky. The bright yellow faded to a deeper, richer gold, then to a faint rosy hue, and then it was gone, replaced by the shimmering periwinkle of twilight.

"Beautiful," Brooke sighed, her eyes still on the sky.

"Yeah." He glanced at her, took in the delicacy of her small shoulders and the way her brown hair moved in the breeze. "It is."

"Race you to the water," she proposed suddenly, and was off like a shot before he could even process the challenge.

Nathan smirked and took off, barreling into the ocean after her, gasping as the freezing waves soaked through his clothes and pierced his skin. "Cheater!" he accused, advancing on her.

"I play to win," she cackled, splashing him a little. Catching the look in his eye, she started to back up, shaking her finger at him. "No. Don't you dare, Nathan Scott, I will hurt you."

"I'm shaking," he snorted, amused at the thought of the hundred pound cheerleader doing any sort of damage to him. "Really. Terrified."

"I'm serious, mister," she warned, "Don't even think about –"

Her voice cut off as he lunged and roped an arm around her waist, dragging her underwater with him. "_Oh!_" she screamed when she'd made it back to the surface, shoving her sopping wet hair out of her eyes. "You are so dead, you don't even know it," she told him, but the giggle that escaped cancelled out most of the threat.

They had to hurry back to the apartment once leaving the water, as they hadn't thought to bring towels and the night air carried a chill. Once he'd dried off, Nathan sank down onto the couch and waited for Brooke to be ready, as it was her turn to pick what they watched.

She emerged from the bedroom in one of his t-shirts, so large that it skimmed her knees, her hair combed but still dripping, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. "What?" she defended her choice of outfits, "I'm not getting my pajamas soaked. You're the one who had to go and get my hair wet."

He just smiled and patted the cushion next to him. "Looks good on you."

"Everything does," she replied, and took the remote from his hands. A few minutes into _Amazing Race_, he felt her eyes on him and turned to her questioningly. "It was a good day, right?"

"The best," he assured her, and put an arm around her shoulders, pleased to discover that they fit perfectly.


	6. I'll Take You On

**I'll Take You On**

_It wouldn't hurt to see you again_

To her severe annoyance, it was harder than Brooke had expected to get Lucas alone. All day long, she searched for him between classes, but the few times she even got him in eyesight, he was with Jake or Peyton or, once, Nathan. Lunch was a bust, too, seeing as he sat at a table in the center of the cafeteria with half the basketball team.

So sneaking into the guys' locker room was a last-ditch effort on her part. She'd noticed that Lucas was the only one missing from the team at their afternoon practice, and had excused herself from cheering to track him down.

"Sorry I'm late, Coach," Lucas called out when he heard her footsteps, "I had to talk to Ms. Graham about a paper we're writing and – Brooke. What are you – what the hell are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," she began, hesitantly.

He stared at her blankly. It was the first time he'd even seen her in weeks, much less engaged in a civil conversation with her. "It couldn't wait? I'm already late for practice and Whitey's gonna kick my ass."

"It's important," Brooke said firmly. Now that she'd gathered the courage to let him know what was going on, she wasn't going to be put off. "It's about us."

"Us?" He didn't mean to, but Lucas cringed at the pairing. "Brooke, if this is about what happened with Peyton and everything, I can't really get into it right now. I can come by later, though, or maybe –"

"I'm pregnant."

The words didn't exactly echo, but they did linger in the silence that followed, sinking into Lucas' bones and taking up residence on his conscience. "You're … you're pregnant," he repeated, his voice lifeless. "Are you kidding? Is this some kind of … revenge or something?"

"No!" Angered that he would even think she'd stoop that low, Brooke looked away. She still couldn't bring herself to really see who Lucas Scott had turned out to be. "No, I'm not … I wouldn't do that. It's for real, I've been seeing a doctor. I'm a little over two months along."

Lucas' mouth tightened. "Okay. Have you – have you told anyone else?"

"Nathan knows." She shrugged, unsure of how much he knew about the living arrangement she'd worked out with his brother. "He sort of found out by accident. He's been helping me."

"He's been helping you." Lucas exhaled slowly, trying to remain calm. "Great, that's just great. My brother's been helping you keep our baby a secret."

"It wasn't like that," Brooke insisted. "He wanted me to tell you, I just … I wasn't sure …"

"What?" He stared at her, hard, and then his eyes cleared as understanding dawned. "You thought I'd just abandon you? Tell you to deal with it and take off, like Dan did to my mom? Is that really what you think of me?"

"I didn't know what to think!" Brooke cried out. She wished she'd never met Lucas, never fallen in love with eyes a blue she'd never seen and a heart she'd thought was made of gold. "I was scared! I'm still scared. I don't know what to do and I just … I thought … I don't know. What do you think?"

Lucas' mind was racing almost as fast as his heart. His entire life was flashing before his eyes, the future that had laid ahead of him – scholarships, Ivy Leagues, pro ball – disappearing in the wake of Brooke's bombshell.

"Okay," he said, thinking aloud, speaking very quickly. "We can fix this, we can. We just … I've got money, Brooke, I'll take care of everything. You can just, just relax. I'll stay with you the whole time and then everything will be back to normal. No one will even have to know."

Very slowly, she lifted her head, her heart sinking to her feet as she realized what he wanted her to do. "You want to – you want to get rid of it?" she whispered, appalled at how quickly he'd come to the conclusion. "Just like that?"

"Well, we can't – we can't raise it," he answered, fumbling the words. He knew he was making a mess of the whole situation, but he didn't know what to do. He'd never expected this. "We're not even together. We're not even out of high school."

"That didn't stop your mother," Brooke pointed out, very calm. The tiny amount of hope she'd been holding onto was leaking out of the hole he'd just put in her heart. "But I guess she was a lot braver than either of us. I have to go."

"Brooke, wait," he tried, but she spun away from the hand that shot out to grab her and shook her head forcefully. "Brooke!"

She managed to wait until she was beyond the locker room doors, and then she broke into a run.

XXX

Nathan arrived home from a practice that had been conspicuously Lucas-free and followed the sounds of Brooke sobbing to the closed bedroom door. "Brooke?" He knocked softly, pressing his ear close to the wood. "You okay in there?"

It was a stupid question. He could tell from the sounds that she was nowhere close to okay, but it wasn't like he had years of experience in dealing with emotional, heartbroken pregnant girls. "Can I come in?"

She didn't answer, but a minute later, the lock clicked and she stood framed in the doorway. "Wow," he breathed, taking in the sight of her tear-stained cheeks, "You look like hell."

Her glare didn't lose any of its violence despite the watery eyes and the red nose. "Sorry," he said quickly, stepping inside before she could change her mind and slam the door in his face. "Bad time to joke, I guess."

Once inside, he stopped short, realizing that it was the first time he'd been in here without Haley. It looked the same, despite the obvious hints that Brooke was an inhabitant – a bra dangling from the desk chair, various tubes and tubs of makeup littering the vanity. "So I'm guessing it didn't go very well with Lucas."

"He told me to get rid of it," she said flatly. "Simple as that. It didn't even take him thirty seconds to offer up money and a ride to the clinic."

"Are you … you're serious? What a hypocrite." Nathan swung away from her, his hands balling into fists. "Of all people, I mean, come _on_. That's just wrong."

"I think it was so awful because he didn't even have to think about it," Brooke said, more to herself than to him. He stepped closer, listening anyway. "I mean, I've known for months and I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do. I think I wanted to keep it, deep down. When he said … when he offered me the money, I couldn't even breathe."

"Brooke, you can still keep it," Nathan said, stretching one tentative hand out to touch her shoulder. "I mean, you don't have to decide anything right this minute."

"How am I supposed to raise a baby?" Her laugh was bitter, as if she was choking on a particularly hard truth. "I'm eighteen and up until a few weeks ago, I didn't even know how to turn on a washing machine. I can barely take care of myself."

"I'd help you." He didn't think before making the offer, but even as the words rang in his own ears, he knew he meant it. "You could stay here. Summer's coming soon, I could get a job. It could work, Brooke."

Her head was already shaking. "No, no, Nathan. No. I'm not going to let you change your life any more than you already have for me. You've done enough, you know? You've been great. But I made this mess and I … I have to figure it out on my own."

"No, you don't, Brooke." His hand traveled from her shoulder to her cheek, laying lightly, almost tenderly, against her skin. "Just yesterday, you told me I was the closest thing you have to a friend. Well, ditto, okay? Lucas made his choice. Now you get to make yours. And I promise, no matter what it is, I'll stand by you."

It took her a moment to find her voice, she was so moved by his speech. "I, uh – I take it back," she said, bringing her fingers up to his wrist. He wasn't sure if she was trying to move his hand away from her face or bring him closer. "What I said yesterday. You're not the closest thing to a friend I have. You're the _best_ friend I have. Which, really, I did _not_ see coming."

He chuckled at that, and she laughed, too, and it felt good to know that she still could. "Seriously, though, Nathan," she pressed, "Thank you so much. For everything."

He didn't say anything, just moved his touch from her cheek to the back of her neck and pulled her close, as if he could shield her from the future. And they stayed like that, pressed together and silent, for a long time.


	7. She Says

**She Says**

_And when she breaks down and makes a sound,_

_You'll never hear her the way that I do_

Nathan waited until Brooke had fallen asleep and tucked her into his bed, amazed at how little time it had taken for the mattress to curve to her shape, the pillows to shift to her liking. Then, after drawing the shades to keep the afternoon sun from disturbing her, he set out to find his brother.

He found Lucas in the first place he looked – at the river courts, taking shot after shot at one end of the court and missing two out of every three. "You're not focusing," he called out, his voice breaking the relative stillness that surrounded them.

"Yeah, well," Lucas grunted, taking yet another shot and scowling as it fell wide of the hoop, "I've got a lot on my mind."

Nathan leaned against the pole of the net, stuffing his hands into his pockets "Anything in particular?"

"Nothing that _you_," Lucas threw the ball forcefully in his direction, almost catching him in the chest before Nathan's hands flew up to block the blow. "Don't already know about."

"Listen, Lucas, if you have some sort of problem with me," he began, tossing the ball right back at him with just as much force.

"I do! Funny you should mention it, actually," Lucas cut in, his tone scathing. "Because you couldn't be _bothered_ to mention to me that my ex-girlfriend was pregnant with my goddamn baby."

"I told Brooke I would wait for her to tell you," Nathan said defensively.

Lucas threw the ball at him again, harder this time, so that it stung as his palms closed over it. "And when did _Brooke _get higher than your brother on your list of priorities? Huh? Since when did the two of you get so close?"

"Since you ditched her for Peyton!" Nathan shouted back and this time, when he returned the ball, it was a direct hit to Lucas' gut, knocking the wind out of the other boy. "Somebody had to step in and help her out, man. I couldn't just sit back and do nothing!"

"Why not?" Lucas demanded, when he'd regained his breath. His gaze was cool and measuring, his next words carefully chosen. "That's what you did when Haley left."

Nathan didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he just shook his head in disgust. "You're a piece of work, man. Do you know that I just spent the last two hours watching Brooke cry over you? She went to you for help, even after what you pulled with Peyton, because she still thought of you as some larger-than-life superhero who knows just what to do. And you _crushed_ her, Lucas."

"She didn't give me any time!" Lucas yelled. Beyond frustrated, he threw the ball as hard as he could, and they both watched as it sailed into the trees. "She comes to me in the locker room, drops this _huge _bomb, and then just expects me to magically make everything better? What was I supposed to do?"

"You were supposed to talk to her," Nathan shot back. "Listen to what she had to say, maybe. I know, it might seem like a hard concept, but, God, Lucas. Think about what you would've wanted someone to say to your mom seventeen years ago. Think about what's best for you _and _Brooke _and_ the baby."

"And what do you think that is? You're suddenly the expert on Brooke, the end-all, be-all of teenage pregnancy?" Lucas demanded. "What, then, in your _esteemed_ opinion, is best for her?"

"Personally?" He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, meeting his brother's eyes dead on. Blazing brown flashed against blue steel in a silent battle of wills. "I think she's better off without you, no matter what she decides. You obviously never cared about her like you claimed to."

"And what? You do? Are _you_ what's best for her now, Nate? Married at seventeen and abandoned by your wife before hitting eighteen?"

"Shut your mouth," he commanded roughly. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Lucas' lips turned upwards in a cruel smirk, satisfied that he'd hit the mark. "Yeah. I guess I'm not the only one of us who didn't care enough."

"I guess I'm not the only one of us who takes after Dad," Nathan shot back, "Only difference is, I'm smart enough to change. Something tells me you just don't have what it takes."

Turning his back on the court and his brother, he walked away from them both for what would probably be the last time.

XXX

"Where'd you go?"

The words were soft and slurred with sleep, her eyes barely open, but Nathan knew she wouldn't let it rest until he'd answered. He sat down at the foot of the bed, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. "To the courts," he answered, "I had something I needed to do."

"You saw Lucas."

It wasn't a question. Brooke could tell from his slumped posture, the crease in his forehead. She shifted beneath the covers to better see his face. "What happened? What did he say to you?"

"Nothing I'd like to repeat in this century." With a sigh, Nathan let his body fall backwards, collapsing into the mattress. "Oh, man, how can he such an _ass_?"

Brooke smiled wryly. "It wasn't too long ago that he was saying the same thing about you. Weird how things change, huh?"

He opened his eyes and took in the sight of her in his bed, the tips of her hair brushing against his arm. "Very," he agreed, letting his eyelids shutter closed again.

There was a rustling sound and then he felt her head burrowing into the crook of his shoulder, right where his arm met his torso. "I'm sorry that you guys fought because of me," she offered, her voice small and meek. "I wish things were different."

"Really?" he asked, resting his hand on the small of her back. "I don't."

"Well." She drew the word out on her tongue, and he didn't have to open his eyes to know that one eyebrow was arched, "_Some_ things."

"Like what?"

"Like … I wish I didn't have to make this decision." She waited a beat, but he didn't say anything. "Is that awful?"

"I think it's perfectly normal," he assured her. "Hell, _I_ wish you didn't have to make this decision. But you still have time, you know. It doesn't have to be sorted out tomorrow."

"I also wish Peyton and Lucas hadn't done … what they did," she said in response. She was quick to add, "I don't wish that I was still with Luke. But I just … I think all of this would be a lot easier to deal with if I didn't know how awful people could be to each other. To people they claim to care about."

Nathan shifted, drawing her closer, and cleared his throat before speaking. "I wish Haley and I hadn't rushed into the whole marriage thing," he offered. "I don't regret it, exactly, but I think it made everything harder than it had to be. You know, every fight had more significance, every decision carried major weight. I wish we'd let ourselves just be high school kids for a while longer."

"I wish you had, too," Brooke said softly. Her hand was laying flat against his chest, directly over his heart. She liked the feel of his skin jumping against her palm in a slow, sure rhythm. "I wish things were simple."

He laughed low in his throat, a deep, rumbling noise that vibrated against her form. "You'd be bored to death in three minutes or less by 'simple'," he told her, and felt her lips curve into a smile against his neck. "And you know it."

"You're probably right," she agreed, letting her eyes drift close. "But what a way to go."

Nathan felt her body relax into sleep and smiled to himself. Simple would have been nice, but right now, he couldn't think of a better way to spend his last waking moments than Brooke's skin warm against his and their hearts beating in sync.

He slept more peacefully than he had in weeks.


	8. Numbness For Sound

**Numbness For Sound**

_I'll wait here_

_Or should I start pushing my way home?_

Two weeks went by and Brooke finally started to store her clothes in the drawers Haley had left empty. Nathan went job-hunting after school and returned from grocery expeditions with the diet soda she always craved. Every night, she tugged his hand until he moved from the couch to the bedroom with her.

Neither of them mentioned the changes, but they were there just the same.

Wednesday night was an exception, because some kind of championship was on TV that Nathan wanted desperately to watch. Brooke went to bed alone and it took longer than usual for her to fall asleep, but it was hardly cause for concern.

Two hours later, Nathan's temples throbbed from the concentration he'd been giving the game. Making a quick pit stop in the bathroom, he dug around the medicine cabinet for anything that would make falling asleep easier and came across the one thing that guaranteed it would be difficult.

His wedding ring was sitting right where he'd left it weeks ago, gleaming as the overhead light caught it in its glare. Frowning, Nathan picked it up, held it close for inspection.

It seemed like an artifact from ancient history. His marriage to Haley felt like it had happened to someone else. He'd changed substantially since she'd walked out the door and now, he wondered if it was _because_ she'd gone or if it would have happened anyway.

Either way, he wasn't the same person who had sworn to stand by her until death did they part. And her departure had made it abundantly clear that she wasn't the same woman who'd taken that vow. Maybe it was time to end their marriage officially and begin to move on.

"Nathan!" Brooke's scream tore through the apartment, making him jump and lose his grip on the ring. It clattered into the sink and then down the drain as he raced to the bedroom, mindless of anything but her cries. "Nathan!"

He burst through the door and flicked the switch, flooding the room with light. Brooke sat in the middle of the bed, the sheets stained crimson with blood, and raised wide, terrified eyes to his. "Something's wrong," she whispered, and then passed out.

XXX

Brooke woke up slowly, her lashes fluttering against her pale cheeks before opening fully. "Morning," she murmured to Nathan, then blinked when she realized she didn't feel his warmth beside her. "Nathan?"

"I'm here," he said immediately, and she found him sitting beside the bed, his arms stretched across the mattress so that his hands could hold hers. "You've been out for awhile."

"What happened?" She had a vague recollection of a stomachache the night before, but it seemed like nothing more than a bad dream now. "Are we – are we at the hospital? Oh, my God. The baby. Nathan, what happened to the baby?"

He didn't need to say anything. Just one look at his face, the tight lines around his mouth, the black circles under his eyes, and she knew why she suddenly felt so empty.

"You had a miscarriage last night, Brooke," he reminded her, as gently as possible. "I brought you to the hospital, but the doctors said it was too late. There was nothing we could have done."

It was coming back to her now; the vicious twisting in her abdomen, the tears that had welled in her eyes as she spilled blood that wasn't even hers. "No," Brooke whispered, shaking her head vehemently, "No, Nathan, please."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Nathan shook his head. He was hardly able to believe it himself, and he'd been awake all night turning the events over in his head. If only he'd been quicker, faster, smarter. If only he hadn't wanted to watch the stupid game. If only, if only, if only. "Your body, Brooke, you … you just weren't ready. We couldn't have stopped it."

"But I _was_ ready," she argued, wrestling her hands out of his grip. She didn't want anyone touching her, not when she was so obviously poisonous from the inside out. "I was going to have the baby. I'd finally … I'd decided. I was going to tell you on Friday night. I wanted to … I wanted …"

She collapsed in a fit of sobs, her hands clutching at her abdomen, fingers digging into the soft skin as if she could find what she'd lost. Aching for her, Nathan held her body still until she'd worn herself out. "We're gonna get through this, Brooke," he told her, when she was calm and on the verge of sleep again. "We will."

He wasn't sure if she was still listening at that point, but her fingers flexed and tightened in his, and he took that as a good sign.

XXX

Brooke was kept overnight for observation and forced to meet with a grief counselor before the hospital would consent to her release. The doctor talked and the therapist talked and Brooke listened as best she could, but she didn't come any closer to understanding why she'd had a life inside of her and now she didn't.

As promised, Nathan arrived to shuttle her back to the apartment at promptly twelve o'clock the next day. He talked about trivial things and cast her worried looks when he didn't think she was paying attention, but not once did he ask her how she was feeling, and she was grateful for that.

"I'm going to take a nap," she said when they'd arrived home, even though she was so tired of sleeping that it hurt to even close her eyes. To her surprise, he followed her into the bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and pulled back the covers. "What are you doing, Nathan?"

"Taking a nap," he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. At her hard stare, he sighed. "I'm not going to let you go through this alone, Brooke. I won't talk. I won't even snore. I'll just be here, with you. Okay?"

Because it was arguably the nicest thing he'd ever said to her, and because her body hurt in ways she couldn't even describe, she didn't put up a fight. Instead, she crawled under the covers, seeming to take up less space than before, and accepted his arms encircling her from behind.

Nathan wasn't sure if minutes or hours had passed when Brooke finally spoke. The sound of her voice startled him, thin and reedy, not at all the confident timbre and self-assured speech of two days ago. "I was thinking about names, you know," she said, concentrating on tugging at a loose thread in the sheets. "Parker, if it was a boy. Parker James Davis."

"And for a girl?" He wasn't sure he even wanted her to answer. Giving a name to the tiny, faceless tragedy didn't seem like the best way to move forward.

As usual, Brooke was brave enough for both of them. "Cady." She cleared her throat. "Or Madison, I couldn't … I couldn't pick."

He considered. "I like Cady."

Brooke kept her eyes very wide open and focused on the alarm clock that lay on the dressing table. A minute ticked by, then two, and when she thought it was safe to speak without crying, she wet her lips. "Do you … do you still miss Haley?"

Taken aback by the random change of subject, Nathan thought carefully before answering. "Sometimes," he decided. "But I think it's more that I miss how I thought it would be. I saw Haley as my chance to start a new life, be a different person than I was. You know?"

"I know," she whispered, and let the thin rope of fabric fall from her fingers so that she could grasp his hands, pressing both their palms against her flat stomach. "I know exactly what you mean."

Nathan propped himself up on one elbow and turned his other hand over in hers so that their palms lay against each other. Slowly, he interlocked their fingers and guided her knuckles to his lips. "It'll get easier, Brooke," he told her, thinking of how his own wounds had mended without him even realizing it. "I promise. We'll get through this."

Brooke turned so that her body curved into his. His words made her feel like not everything was ending. "I think I believe you," she murmured drowsily.

There was something else he wanted to say, an idea that had flirted at the edge his mind for weeks and been cemented into place somewhere between the bedroom and the hospital, but Nathan closed his mouth firmly. Her heart was breaking right now and he didn't want those words to get lost in the gap. It – _she_ - was too important.


	9. You & A Promise

Ah! I don't know how I messed this up, but this chapter is supposed to come before End Of Our Days! I think it'll probably make a little more sense and be better paced if you read this, too, so I'm gonna stick it in. Sorry for the confusion!

**You & A Promise**

_How perfect it could be; you and me_

Nathan awoke with a start, the knowledge that he was alone in bed somehow permeating his unconscious state and kick-starting his brain. "Brooke?" he called out, still bleary-eyed, his hand sweeping over the space she'd occupied and coming up empty. "Brooke?"

This was weird. Brooke hadn't strayed far from the bedroom in the week since the miscarriage. Other than the rare appearance in the kitchen to forage for nourishment, she'd kept herself bed-ridden, flipping through magazines and television channels to pass the time. Now, she seemed to be out of earshot, which could only mean that she'd left the apartment.

Not bothering to change out of his boxers and t-shirt ensemble, Nathan hurried onto the beach, scanning the horizon for the missing girl. He was wracking his brain as to where she would've gone – maybe the mall? – when he rounded a curve on the shoreline and saw her.

"Morning, sunshine," he greeted, breathing easier at just the sight of her. "Jesus, you scared me. Leave a note next time you sneak out."

Brooke smiled, just a little, but the sight of the long-absent gesture warmed his heart. "Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of sneaking out?"

"Smartass," he chided in response. "Why are you even awake right now? It's Saturday and it's nowhere near noontime."

She jerked her chin at the sky. "I wanted to watch the sun come up," she explained. "And I needed the fresh air. I haven't been outside in a while."

"I'd noticed," he replied cautiously, unsure of what she was getting at. Wanting a better view of her face, he sat down in the sand, close enough for their thighs to touch. "You, uh, feeling okay?"

"I feel fine," she answered, her voice firm.

It was the truth. Brooke had had a lot of time to think in the last few days, and she thought she'd finally made her peace with everything that had happened. It still hurt, a kind of dull ache that resided in the pit of her stomach, but she'd stopped wanting to cry all the time.

Nathan, she saw when she moved her eyes from the distant sea to his face, didn't look entirely convinced. Nudging his shoulder gently, her smile widened, this time reaching her eyes. "Hey. I'm serious. I feel good. Like myself again, actually."

He looked relieved. "Good. I never thought I'd say this, but I was starting to miss the Brooke Davis I know and love."

It wasn't how he'd planned on telling her. In fact, in the dozens of ways he'd considered confessing his true feelings to Brooke, none of them had ever included her pale and puffy-eyed, on the tail end of surviving the biggest tragedy of her life. But the 'L' word left his mouth before he could think to censor it, and although his tone had been joking, neither of them laughed.

"Well." Suddenly hyperaware of his leg against hers, Brooke shifted so that the contact was broken. "She's back and ready for action."

Her spirits plummeted again as he simply nodded and tugged his gaze away from hers, turning his attention to the waves crashing ashore. It wasn't really his fault, she tried to tell herself. She couldn't blame him for not wanting to get caught up in the mess she continually made of her life.

This would be for the best. They would remain friends, which was a plus, since Nathan had proved himself to be the most loyal, trustworthy companion she'd ever had. They wouldn't wind up hating each other a few years down the road. And … and … who was Brooke kidding? She would've traded her left arm for Nathan to bring his eyes back to hers and follow through on his Freudian slip.

"Nathan …" she trailed off, scared for the first time since she could remember. Brooke never let anything stand in the way of what she wanted, especially not something as fleeting as fear. Struggling to regain that lost piece of herself, she took a deep breath and powered through, "Nathan, I'm a little terrified here, so you're gonna have to bear with me, okay?"

His eyes flew to her, his concern obvious. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She shook her head. "That's just it. I've always … I've always screwed up every good thing that happened to me. Except you. You've stayed with me through … through a lot. And I appreciate it. But if you're just here out of some weird feeling of obligation or whatever, you don't have to stick around."

"Brooke. I –"

"I know, I know," she interrupted, hardly believing what she was saying. She had lost almost everything in the past few months and now here she was, telling the one last good thing in her life he was free to hit the road. "You made me a promise. But I'm not gonna hold you to it, okay?"

"No, that's not – that's not what I was going to say. Brooke," he said again, more urgently. He used his fingers to tilt her chin until she was trapped in his gaze once more. "I love you. And I'm not saying that because I think I should. I'm saying it because … I can't _not_. I've been biting my tongue for weeks and I know it's crazy and stupid and it doesn't make any sense at all, but it is what it is."

Just as he hadn't been expecting to say it, Brooke hadn't been expecting to hear it. Her lips moved soundlessly, her brain having suddenly been wiped clear of any coherent thought.

"Brooke Davis, speechless?" Nervous at the reception his confession was getting, Nathan worked up a chuckle. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Shut up," she ordered faintly, her senses slowly returning. "Give me a minute to catch up, here. I thought … I was ending it."

"Yeah, about that." Nathan offered up a small, crooked smile. "I'm a little offended you were trying to dump me when we weren't even officially together. I mean, that's not usually how it works."

"I didn't want you to feel obligated towards me after … everything." Brooke swallowed hard. There was a lump in her throat but, for the first time in weeks, it wasn't due to oncoming tears. "I was trying to give you a break."

"I don't want one," he said simply, taking her hand in his.

Brooke stared at the entwined fingers, felt the weight of his palm warming her fingers, her heart. "Are you sure?"

He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, but they were gleaming playfully as he countered, "Are you going to say it _back_?"

In all of Brooke's experience, actions spoke louder than words. Launching herself at Nathan, flinging her arms around his neck like he was a lifeline, and kissing him senseless would have been the perfect, over-the-top, classically Brooke maneuver. They both waited to see what she would do.

Finally, after a minute that seemed like a lifetime, a smile spread across her lips. "I love you, too," she said simply, as her dimples appeared and the clouds in her eyes evaporated.

It didn't need a huge declaration, she'd decided. She didn't have to spend so much energy making sure everyone in a ten-mile radius knew how she felt. There didn't need to be bells and whistles attached to her heart so that people knew where it lay. She could just … be there, in the moment, soaking it in.

Nathan, seeming to understand her wordless epiphany, reached out and touched her chin again, bringing their lips to an inch apart. He stopped there and waited, lips hovering over hers, for her to bridge the gap. She melted into him with a sigh, the kind that escaped her lips when she was crawling into bed at the end of a long day, a sound that signaled how absolutely at peace she was.

It probably should have felt strange. They were old friends, semi-enemies, roommates. He was the brother of the only boy to ever break her heart. He was still married. She was still mourning the loss of her unborn child. But kissing Nathan seemed to wipe the slate clean, make her forget that any world existed outside of theirs.

The sun was shining brightly by the time they finally pulled apart, and Brooke briefly imagined that it had risen specifically to spotlight this moment. Nathan got to his feet, pulling her up behind him, and dusted the sand off both their bodies. "Come on, we should get home."

"Why?" she challenged, falling into step with him anyway. "Is there a game on soon?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," he retorted, slipping his arm around her shoulders easily and inclining his head to inhale the scent of her shampoo. It was weird, how everything about her was so familiar and new at the same time. "But I could probably be persuaded to TiVo it."

"You're such a romantic," she giggled, beaming, and hooked a finger into the collar of his shirt to tug him down for a kiss. "Really, it's … oh, my God."

Brooke stopped short in the doorway to the living room, causing Nathan to stumble slightly into the wall. "Ow," he complained, giving her a small nudge farther into the room, "What's the – what the hell?"

Looking just as confused as they felt, Haley stood up from the couch and took a hesitant step forward. Her gaze skipped over Brooke, though her lips puckered questioningly, and landed right on Nathan. Through the blood rushing in his head, he saw her lips move and heard her greeting:

"Honey, I'm home."


	10. End Of Our Days

**End Of Our Days**

_We never stop turning and sometimes it's tough to change direction_

Brooke only answered the knock on the door because she thought it was the taxi driver. She'd been waiting much longer than the advertised fifteen-or-less minutes and was ready to give them a piece of her mind when she swung the door open.

"I'm not paying –" she began, then stopped short. "Lucas. What are you doing here?"

He looked as uncomfortable as she felt, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, keeping his focus on a point just above her head. "I just … you haven't been in school all week," he explained, obviously ill at ease. "And I just wanted to come by and, um, make sure everything was okay."

"Everything's fine," she answered coolly, surprising even herself at the strength of her poker face. Nothing was fine, nothing was even remotely close to fine. She and Nathan had just found the love of his life waiting in their living room, the two recently separated lovebirds were taking a stroll down the beach at this very minute.

Probably rekindling all the old sparks, Brooke thought bitterly, and just minutes after Nathan had told her he loved her. It was her luck, really. She should've seen it coming. Her and Nathan Scott, meant to be? It would've been laughable if she hadn't been dreaming about it for months.

"Are you sure?" Lucas asked tentatively, when the silence had stretched out awkwardly and Brooke's eyes had turned dark. "You don't look too happy."

"How's this?" She forced her lips to curve upwards, the glare she fixed on him overpowering the mocking smile. "Feel better now?"

Exasperated with her attitude, Lucas heaved a sigh. "Look, Brooke, I'm sorry, okay? About … everything. For the way it all turned out. But I don't want things to be like this. We should at least, you know, be civil. In case you decide to have the baby or …"

"I'm not having the baby," she cut in, putting him out of his misery and furthering hers. It was the first time she'd said the words out loud, and even with all the progress she'd made in the past week, her heart broke all over again.

"What?" Shocked, he fumbled for his next words. "But you … I thought …"

"I lost it," she explained, avoiding his eyes. She focused on the sun at his back, staring hard until she had herself almost convinced that it, and not tears, was causing the burning sensation at the back of her eyes.

"You … lost it," he repeated. His tone was one of utter defeat. It was weird, Lucas thought, because he really hadn't thought he'd wanted a child, but his heart was aching just the same. "Oh, God. Brooke, I … I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I would've – I would've – I'm so sorry."

"Why?" she asked numbly, her arms wrapping defensively around her stomach. "Isn't this exactly what you wanted? No more baby, problem solved."

"I didn't want this, Brooke." He was hurt that she would think such a thing, but then again, he hadn't given her much reason to have faith in him. "I _never_ wanted this to happen."

"Yeah, well, it did." She shrugged, wishing she could be more eloquent, wishing she had the words to make everything okay again – not for him, but for herself. "It's over, Lucas. You can go back to Peyton and have your happy-ever-after."

It was all he wanted right now, to turn tail and run away, to hide in Peyton's arms and burry himself in her curls and curves. Still, he hesitated. Despite everything that had happened between them, how he'd handled himself with the news, he cared deeply about Brooke. "What about you? What are you going to do now?"

Again, Brooke's shoulders rose and fell. "The best I can," she answered, her eyes still trained on the sun, half-hoping to just go blind so she wouldn't have to see Nathan and Haley walk back from their reunion hand in hand. "If you'll excuse me, I have something I have to do."

Before another word could pass between them, she stepped back, letting the door close between them with a soft, final click. Outside, Lucas hung his head and turned away. Inside, Brooke made her way through the house that had been her safety zone for months to the bed she and Nathan had shared and reached for her suitcase.

XXX

"I surprised you," Haley commented, once Nathan had thrown a pair of jeans on and ushered her out of the house, away from Brooke's wide, fearful eyes and forced smile.

"I didn't know you were …" He didn't know how to finish the sentence. Coming home? Visiting? Passing through? "I didn't expect to see you."

"I didn't expect you to be entertaining guests," she countered, and the words slid out so smoothly he knew she'd just been waiting for the right moment to deliver them.

"Brooke's been staying with me for a while," he said by way of explanation. Giving her the details would have felt like a betrayal – of whom, he wasn't quite sure. "She needed a friend."

"You guys are friends now?" Haley's face changed, something shuttered in her eyes, but she kept her tone light. "Things sure have changed."

"Yeah," he said shortly. "They have."

"Nathan." Convinced they were far enough from Brooke's watchful eye and penchant for gossip, Haley stopped and faced him. "I'm sorry that I left things the way I did. It wasn't right. I know that now."

Did that change things between them? Did he want it to? Nathan kept his eyes on the ground as his mind worked overtime to comprehend what was happening. Did _she_ want it to? "Haley –" he started, then gave a frustrated sigh and tried again, "Hales. What are you doing here? Why'd you come back?"

She hadn't expected it to be so hard. She'd prepared herself for some initial awkwardness, a lingering resentment. But this – his smile dimming at the sight of her, his careful avoidance of her eyes and the fingers she'd brushed against his in an attempt at holding hands – this, she hadn't seen coming.

"I want to be with you," she answered honestly. "Don't you … I mean, I thought that's what you wanted, too. I thought you wanted to be together."

"I did," he said, and inwardly cursed at the way it sounded. "I mean, I do – did. I did. When you left, I was … I was angry. I wanted you to stay."

Haley watched the emotions warring in his eyes. "But?"

"But …" He finally looked her in the eyes, pleading with her to understand, and Haley felt like someone had punched her in the gut. "Things change, Haley. _We've_ changed."

Was this how he'd felt, the night she walked out the door? As if someone had pulled the world out from beneath his feet and laughed while he stumbled and fell? Haley took a deep breath. "What're you saying, Nathan?"

He reached out to touch her shoulder, not sure if he was bracing her or himself for the blow. "Haley, I don't want to hurt you. This isn't – this isn't something I decided to do out of revenge, or anger, or anything. It just happened."

"_What_ just happened?" Tired of him dancing around the issue, Haley grabbed his hand and pulled it off of her, then froze. "Nathan. You're not wearing your ring."

Her own was sparkling in the sunshine. "I know," he said heavily, and they both heard it as a confession. "I took it off. I'm really sorry, Haley. If things were different …"

She noticed that he didn't say '_I wish _things were different'. And she'd been his tutor, she knew he was all too aware of sentence structure and word choice. She knew exactly what he meant. "I see."

Nathan looked desperate, as if he'd rather be anywhere but standing on a beach with her. It was sad to think that they'd been married on the beach, too, laughing and making promises they couldn't have known they wouldn't keep. It felt like a lifetime ago. "I'm sorry," he said again. "And I want you to know, Haley, I'm really proud of you for following your dreams like you did. It was brave."

"Brave." She choked out a chuckle that might have been a sob. "Yeah. Definitely a good move on my part. So, it's you and Brooke now, huh?"

He liked the way that sounded. "Yeah. It's me and Brooke now."

"Tell her …" Haley paused, collected her thoughts. "Tell her I say congratulations. She has a good guy."

"Thank you, Haley." He was grateful for the forgiveness she was granting him. He would have gone back to Brooke no matter what, but it was nice to do it without any loose ends or severed ties. "So, uh, am I going to see you on stage any time soon?"

"I'll send you tickets to the next show," she promised, working up a smile. Her world wouldn't stop, she knew. Her manager would be calling soon, she and Chris would sit down tonight, as they did every night, and work on lyrics, she would be back on a bus within the week. The ache would ease. "Two of them."

"That would mean a lot to me, Hales. Listen, I've got to get back." He had a feeling Brooke would have a few choice words to sum up the situation and that he'd be getting an earful. "We'll talk soon, okay? Give me a call. And I'll be waiting for those tickets."

But he wouldn't be waiting for her. They both knew it. At the water's edge, Haley hung her head and turned away. Down the beach, Nathan shoved his hands into his pockets and headed home.


	11. Come Lay Down

Hi, everyone! So this is it, the end of Stop All The World Now. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, I'm glad people liked it. I've never written One Tree Hill before, I don't even keep up with the show, and I really don't know why I fell in love with Nathan/Brooke, but I plan to write a lot more about them soon! Thanks again, don't forget to leave me your final thoughts!

**Come Lay Down**

_Follow me and don't look down_

Nathan felt surprisingly light-hearted as he made his way back to the apartment. Ending things with Haley had felt … not easy, exactly, but right. He knew she was upset and hurting, but he also knew how strong she was. She'd get over him and find the person she was meant to be with, just like he had with Brooke.

He stopped short upon recognizing Lucas' figure approaching him from his own front door. His brother hadn't tried to contact him or Brooke in the weeks since he'd learned she was pregnant. Nathan wondered if he'd changed his mind, too late, about being involved.

"Lucas," he greeted when they'd closed the gap between them. "What are you doing here?"

"I was checking on Brooke." Lucas gestured vaguely to the apartment he was leaving, looking disturbed. "She, uh, she lost the baby. But you knew that."

"I did." He wasn't going to apologize for being there when his brother hadn't been. "I'm sorry, man, it must've been hard to hear."

"It must have been harder to go through," Lucas returned. There was no rancor in his voice, just regret. "I'm glad she had you helping her out, Nate. If it had to be anyone … I'm really glad it was you."

Nathan knew that it was as close to a blessing as he would get. "Thanks, Luke. That means a lot. Oh. Hey, Haley's back in town. I don't think she'll be staying long, but, uh, she's down the beach if you wanted to say hello."

Lucas peered in the direction he'd indicated. "Haley's back, huh? Have you … told her yet? About Brooke?"

"Just now." Nathan nodded and rocked back on his heels. "We ended things on okay terms. But she could probably use her best friend right about now."

"Yeah. You know, I think I told you once that if you ever hurt her, I'd kill you." Lucas turned his gaze on him, his eyes a piercing blue. "But I never got a chance to say that I'm sorry she hurt you first."

"It's in the past," Nathan shrugged. "And I think it should stay there. Things are good now. Different, but good."

"Yeah. I never saw you and Brooke coming, not in a million years." Lucas smiled as he said it, a sign that they were truly moving in the right direction and would be able to put all of the tension behind them.

"Tell me about it," Nathan agreed, a small grin flitting over his lips as well. "But it's right, you know? She makes me … she's just …"

"I know," Lucas cut in, remembering full well the energy Brooke infused the world with. "She's one of a kind. Listen, I should go check on Haley. It's my duty as the best friend to give her a shoulder to cry on. But, Nathan, man, look … don't make the same mistake twice You love Brooke, I know that, I can tell. Don't let her go, okay?"

Nathan's grin only widened as he shook his head. "I couldn't if I tried. But thanks, Luke. See you at practice?"

"I'll be the one wiping the court with you," his brother smirked, and their laughter floated between them, holding them together as they went their separate ways.

XXX

Her bags were already packed.

Nathan's heart stopped in his chest as he surveyed the changes Brooke had made while he'd been gone. Four brightly-colored, oversized duffle bags were piled by the door, the same luggage he'd hauled in for her so many months ago. The jumble of shoes that had accumulated in the foyer since her arrival was noticeably absent. There wasn't a single nail polish bottle or hairbrush left lying in the wrong spot.

"Brooke?" he called out apprehensively. "Brooke, are you home?"

"That was quick," she observed, appearing from the bedroom with a jean jacket in one hand and her purse dangling from her wrist. "Did the two of you get everything settled?"

"Yeah, we – we talked it all over and everything's all set now," he responded, his voice sounding faint even to his own ears. Was it his imagination, or was she purposely keeping herself at a distance? "Do you want to sit down?"

Brooke barely spared the couch he pointed to a glance. "No, I'm good," she said briskly, her eyes sweeping over him as well. "I have a cab coming soon, so."

"A cab?" Nathan's eyes flew to the window, scanning the street. "Brooke, if you need a ride someplace, I'm happy to take you."

The last thing she wanted to do was subject herself to an awkward car ride with the boy she'd almost believed she could share her life with. Well, the second to last thing, because the last thing was subjecting herself to the breakup speech she was sure he'd come prepared with.

"The cab will do just fine, thanks. Listen, Nathan," she paused and blew out a breath, a few strands of hair fluttering out of her eyes. How did she approach the end of her world? "I want you to know, there's no hard feelings, okay? I get it."

Nathan tried to keep his impatience in check. He wanted to touch her, damn it. Why was she still standing so far away? "Get … what?"

"_It_." Brooke gestured expansively, as if to spell out whatever the hell it was she was talking about. "The thing with Haley. I get it. First love and all that. Married at seventeen. It's a freaking fairy tale. I know how those end."

"Right," Nathan said, still confused. If she knew that he'd ended things with Haley, why did she look like she was ready to snap? "Brooke, I'm not sure if …"

She cut him off again, determined not to hear a lame letdown from yet another Scott. "Nathan, it's fine, really. I mean, you couldn't have known Haley was coming back. And she's your wife. I understand."

"I don't think you do," he told her, stepping closer. "Brooke, I just told Haley that I can't be with her anymore. Because I'm in love with someone else."

"What?" Brooke stared at him, her shock evident in her slack jaw, her wide eyes. "You told her … you did what?"

"I told her it's over," he explained. "I said I was with you now and that it's going to stay that way. How could you think I'd say anything else? Weren't you listening to a word I said earlier?"

"But that was before." Brooke was utterly lost. She'd been so sure that she knew exactly what was coming; that Nathan would take his wife back without question. "Haley's back and you … you guys are married."

"_Were_ married," he corrected, wiggling his ringless fingers for her to see. "Remember? Haley and I ended a long time ago, Brooke. We just finally got to say it today."

She still backed up when he reached for her, moving out of his grip like a dream upon waking. "I don't want to do that to you, Nathan. Five years down the road, you'll end up hating me for ruining what you had with her. I can't … I can't have you hating me."

"You didn't ruin _anything_." Nathan was tired of talking in circles. "And I could never hate you, Brooke. Never."

"You say that now," she sniffed. "But wait a while and see. There's a reason nobody ever sticks around me, Nathan, there's a reason everyone leaves."

"Yeah, there is," he said defiantly. "They don't love you like I do."

Brooke froze and hesitated, uncertainty still flashing in her eyes. "Look," Nathan began, wanting to drive the point home, "Haley made a choice when she walked out on me. But I made one, too, when I didn't ask her to stay. And now, Brooke, I choose _you_. Okay? Please don't walk out on this. I survived without Haley, but I don't think I could stand losing you. So just, trust me, okay?"

The silence that met his speech seemed unbearable. He had exhausted all the capabilities of language that he knew of. There were only so many ways to say you loved someone.

Of course, Brooke – being Brooke – found yet another one. She wiped away the tears that had spilled during their confrontation. She took her time crossing the room to him; slow, sure steps that could only mean one thing. She stood in front of him, head tilted upwards to meet his eyes, and said, very simply, "I do."

Nathan wondered why it should sound like more of a promise than any vow he and Haley had ever taken. Instead of dwelling on it, however, he decided to just be eternally grateful and brought his lips to her waiting ones with all the force of two stars colliding to create a universe.

"It's weird," Brooke murmured sometime later, her lips still close enough to his that he could feel the wry twist of them. "I keep thinking my world's coming to an end, and you just keep showing up and saying things that prove it's not."

"You're welcome," he said, purposely smug, and swallowed her giggle with a kiss.


End file.
